I have a dilemma.
Things are a bit rough at the moment. I can’t go into any details. It’s not really my story to tell. But once again I find myself in a position where the actions of others have had a profound impact on my life. I haven’t done anything wrong, and yet I’m caught in the crossfire. Collateral damage, if you will.
I’ve been here before. This blog was born in the days shortly after my husband left me, when my mind was filled with horrible, nasty thoughts and I didn’t know what to do with them. I found comfort in writing about how I felt, saying the things that I didn’t feel comfortable telling anybody I actually knew. It was my private, special place where the walls could come down and I could just be me.
Things are different now. My blog isn’t as private as it used to be. I love that. I have more and more readers each month, and it’s exciting to think that people may be interested in what I have to say. But there’s a downside.
People I know now read this. My parents, grandparents, sisters, uncles and aunts all know about the blog and read it occasionally. (Occasionally we also talk about it, which still feels a little strange). Old school friends read it, and also, possibly, peers from school who I wouldn’t necessarily count as close friends. Colleagues, friends from social groups and people who have just about heard my name may read it. Maybe there is even someone reading who doesn’t have my best interests at heart. Someone who has their own private reasons for reading, not to support me, but to keep track of me and my family. Maybe people just want to be nosy and get the latest gossip? People always say you should be careful what you write on the internet.
So what do I write? I could continue to write meaningless accounts of the days out with my kids, and the latest dress I’ve worn. There will no doubt be some of that. But this blog was meant to be more than that. It was supposed to be real. A genuine account of who I am, right now.
But am i prepared to share that with everyone, people I know and people I don’t? Why is it that I was happier to share these secrets with complete strangers than people I may have to meet face to face? Do I really want to let every know not only the intimate facts of my life, but also the thoughts and feelings behind them? Do I really want to be the source of their Schadenfraude? (See Avenue Q – happiness at the misfortune of others)
And if I don’t write what I want to write, then what is the point of having a blog at all? If I am forced to bottle up the truth and only write about the mundane, then I may as well shut down and call it a day. The blog will no longer be what is was meant to be. It will no longer serve it’s purpose.
What would you do?
